


Maybe

by ziennajames



Series: Verse: ftm!Kurt [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Body Dysphoria, Gen, Self-Harm, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, ftm!Kurt, pre-Glee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziennajames/pseuds/ziennajames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, he wants to scream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

Sometimes, he wants to scream. Fill his lungs with air and push it out again, reject it with such force that it will be less painful to just stop breathing for a while. It would ache for a long time, it would ruin his voice for at least a day, but it would be so satisfying.

Harsh words. Scare away others.

Use metaphors and examples and words he doesn’t quite know the meaning of. Hole up in the library in what would be another failed attempt at finding out what is happening. Taking notes and rejecting any touches from the outside world that are deemed irrelevant. Locked safely in his own head.

No storybook, dictionary or medical journal seems to know.

Sometimes, he wants to claw. Grow out his nails and dig till he draws blood, till everything on the outside looks as red and raw as it feels on the inside. It would be wounding, it would result in scars, but it would be so satisfying.

One quick jab. One shallow cut.

Use something pointy, maybe a knife or a needle or a freshly sharpened pencil. Get a pair of scissors out of the sewing kit and scrape the skin. Drawing patterns, doodles, outlines. Draw the outlines that should be, but aren’t.

Scrape off the hips. Tighten the thighs. And do away with those awful, unnecessary, irritating and heavy sacks of fat and flesh and milk glands on the chest.

Sometimes, he wants to give up. Hide and conform and still be unhappy, as ever, as always. It would be easier. It would be normal. It would, could, potentially, stop everyone from running away or rushing towards him at such an awful speed. It would feel fake and terrible and not at all like what he wanted, but he would stop hating himself for it.

Maybe.

Eventually.

Some day.


End file.
